


nostalgia...

by startswithhope



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Sex, Canon Compliant, Domestic Fluff, Future Fic, Husbands, Kissing, M/M, Sexual Content, just had this need to write David and Patrick farther in the future, physical reconnection, where the physical side of a marriage can ebb and flow
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-07
Updated: 2020-09-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 15:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,974
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26330992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/startswithhope/pseuds/startswithhope
Summary: The need to feel David’s skin against his hits him the same way a nostalgic song does when it comes on the radio, this bone deep knowledge of every note and chord and the anticipation of wanting to get to the chorus, and he unfurls his fingers from David’s so they can take their time undressing each other in the candlelight.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 35
Kudos: 237





	nostalgia...

A muffled beat and an array of approaching voices break the silence of the store and he swivels on his heel to peer outside the front window to see a small group of teenagers making their way along the middle of the street. One of them has a string of rainbow colored lights woven between the spokes of her bike wheel and another has a strobe light on her handlebars seemingly flashing to the beat of the music blaring from her iPhone. They are all talking and laughing all at once as they make the most of one of their last late summer nights before school starts up again and careless nights with friends will become few and far between. He’s reminded of the group of idiots who had shoplifted from the store all those years ago and smiles at the memory, thankful that David’s self esteem has strengthened some since then and he no longer seeks validation from undeserving people. At least, he’s gotten much better at it anyway.

Just thinking about his husband makes him eager to see him and Patrick refocuses on his straightening so he can lock up and head home. He’d texted him earlier to see how the vendor visits went and got a thumbs up, so he hopes that means David will be waiting for him when he gets there. While most of their vendors have set up online accounts, there are few who are still off the grid, meaning one of them has a monthly task of dropping off checks, or sometimes cash, to the farms and homesteads on the outskirts of town. David usually volunteers, which initially surprised Patrick, but it didn’t take long for the pieces to fall into place. As much as he complains about how off-the-beaten-path some of their town’s residents may be, David loves visiting them, loves tasting their food and fawning over their diverse and unique artistry. And while he might never admit it, he knows they love seeing him, too. Patrick knows this for a fact as he’s seen the disappointment on more than one of their faces when he stops by instead of his husband. David has convinced himself he’s an acquired taste, but that hasn’t been Patrick’s experience. The man collects people wherever he goes, including Patrick, his biggest cheerleader and president and CEO of the David Rose fanclub.

His cell phone vibrates on the counter and he makes his way over, twisting a few bottles and lotions to their correct positions on the way. 

Seeing “are you coming home soon?” from David has him smiling at his phone screen and he feels his belly swoop a little in excitement. It surprises him, not because he doesn’t still love seeing his husband, but because they’ve been in a bit of a cool phase these past few weeks. Not for any reason, really, and not that it’s been a problem, but they’ve just not been super physical with each other. They still kiss every night after their “I love yous” and again in the morning with their coffee and tea, but there’s been a lack of initiative from both of them for anything more. Still just as connected as ever though, solid, so solid that Stevie has commented that they are entirely too functional and it’s making her uncomfortable. Seven and a half years of marriage and he couldn’t be happier. So it’s not something he’s worried about, but he’s definitely noticed.

This feeling though, he loves it. A little light headed, unfocused, and warm, and all he can think about is getting his hands on his husband as soon as humanly possible. He quickly texts David back to let him know he’ll be home in a few minutes and has the door to the store locked and he’s in the car and driving in less than two. As he pulls into their driveway, he can see a glow illuminating their back lawn and figures David must have set up for dinner out there, so he walks around the house instead of going through the front door. 

What he sees almost brings tears to his eyes.

David has the back porch lit up in strings of fairy lights and edison bulbs, citronella torches and candles in a variety of lanterns. He can hear the soft strum of Patrick’s favorite singer/songwriter playlist coming from their outdoor speaker and the distant hum of his husband’s voice as he sings along from their kitchen through the screen door. It’s not that David isn’t romantic, because he is, but this is so unexpected that Patrick is rendered speechless. 

Somehow he gets his feet to move further along their grass and up the back steps, making sure to make some noise on the creaky wood so he doesn’t sneak up on his husband too badly. David must hear him as he’s peeking his head out the door just as Patrick’s at the top step, smiling widely with a mischievous gleam sparkling in the dark depths of his beautiful eyes.

“What’s all this?” 

David just shrugs and Patrick huffs out a small laugh, still a bit overwhelmed and needing to release a few long breaths to ease the ache in his chest. It’s a good ache, a really, really good ache. As soon as he’s close enough, he’s pulling David towards him by the hem of his sweatshirt and whatever half-hearted complaint his husband was about to profess about the garment is silenced by Patrick’s mouth. For a second or two, he just reacquaints himself with David’s breathing, gently trapping his bottom lip before letting it go and switching the angle of his head so he can do it again. When David’s hands at his waist clench a little, he knows he’s on the right track. Making sure to have his hand behind David’s head before he backs him against the door jamb, he finally gets a taste of his mouth with his tongue and their bodies automatically stretch to align. 

Temporarily shelved passion is unearthed and their kisses turn molten, all hot breaths, wet lips and urgent questions asked and answered and it takes no coaxing at all to lead a very willing David upstairs to their bedroom. He only fully realizes just how on the same page they are when he’s got David pressed against the mattress and he’s looking down at his face as shadows dance across his skin from the candles perched on every available surface. 

“Were you planning on seducing me?” he whispers, taking David’s hands in his and dragging them up and over his head on their pillow.

“No.”

His husband isn’t even attempting to sell that lie, with his tongue peeking out to wet his lips as he widens his hips a little so Patrick can sink in between his legs.

“But if you’d like to seduce me, I’m fully prepared for that outcome.”

Nudging his nose, Patrick presses a smile against David’s lips, fully intending to banter back about _what he could possibly mean by that_ (he knows), but gets lost kissing him instead, in the taste of his mouth and the heat of his tongue and the familiar contours of his lips. David’s fingers tighten in the space between his and Patrick groans in appreciation into his mouth, torn between wanting to kiss him all night and this deep pull in his gut for something deeper. The need to feel David’s skin against his hits him the same way a nostalgic song does when it comes on the radio, this bone deep knowledge of every note and chord and the anticipation of wanting to get to the chorus, and he unfurls his fingers from David’s so they can take their time undressing each other in the candlelight. 

Finally bare, David’s loving and urgent hands linger over Patrick’s slightly untoned belly, kissing the small pooch there before making his way up to nose at the skin along Patrick’s ribs. It tickles and Patrick retaliates, quickly pushing David onto his back and kissing him fiercely, taking advantage of the dazed state left behind to slide down his body and happily bury his lips in the now salt and pepper flecked perfection of David’s happy trail. 

“I’m married to a silver fox,” he jokes as he dips his tongue into David’s belly button, a remark that earns him a playful tug at his ear even as David’s long leg traps him in place. David’s hand moves to his hair and he threads his fingers through the short strands and Patrick leans into the touch, welcoming the gentle tugs as he ventures further down to kiss the warm crease of David’s thigh.

He makes up for lost time worshipping all of David’s sensitive places, his mouth, tongue and eventually lube-slicked fingers bringing David to the edge and back until his husband’s pleas go up an octave and he knows what they both need. With his arm holding up David’s knee and his lips ghosting his open mouth, he finally comes home. The same love that has them kissing each other goodnight before bed guides their bodies in this moment, too, the same ease and knowledge that they are safe and so deeply loved. They give and take until it’s too much and they both need release, slick limbs rearranging until Patrick’s nose is buried in the sweaty nape of David’s neck as his hips drive his husband’s long and beautiful body deep into the mattress.

When David turns his head on the pillow so he can cry out as he comes, Patrick buries himself deeper, the fiery tendrils of his own orgasm spreading quickly as his husband’s ass clenches around him. Leaning down, he buries his face next to David’s and whispers how much he loves him, over and over as he pumps his hips quickly, finally coming with a groan and an amused smile as David mumbles something incoherent in response. 

The small of Patrick’s back is screaming at him and he’s completely out of breath, so he collapses on David’s back, inelegantly spent but unwilling to disconnect. David’s hand reaches back for him, finding the back of his neck and tugging as if he can somehow bring their bodies closer and it just makes Patrick want him again, all night, forever. He has no energy left, but he kisses David’s back, and his shoulder, then his cheek, and finally the corner of his mouth as David twists around in a position that just cannot be comfortable. They both laugh as they scramble to rearrange themselves, both pulling at each other’s backs as they face one another on the pillow, lips like magnets as they breathe into another series of kisses. 

Patrick’s far from being able to go another round, but when David slips a thumb between his lips to wet it against his tongue and that same thumb slides between them to toy with Patrick’s nipple, his brain short circuits a little thinking of all the ways his husband plans to rouse him. 

He loses count at six.

Eventually, they make it back downstairs for a very late, but perfect dinner outside amidst the fairy lights, exchanging heated looks full of all the things they’ve done to each other over the past few hours, touches lingering until he ends up in David’s lap and they makeout for a while before Patrick’s yawning into David’s mouth. It earns him another tug to his ear and some performative huffs and puffs, but he does all of the cleaning up from dinner to make up for it. 

Tucked into bed to sleep, on fresh sheets and back in their everyday pajamas, Patrick leans in for his _“I love you”_ and goodnight kiss and David reciprocates, smiling against his mouth just like the night before and all the nights to come. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
